


A book with a Strange spell upon it

by Nefertiti_22002



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Farcical misunderstandings, M/M, Multiple unrequited crushes, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5755384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefertiti_22002/pseuds/Nefertiti_22002
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr Strange buys a book with a spell that causes everyone who touches the book to fall in love with him. Only those already in love are not affected: Jonathan Strange, Arabella Strange, and, oddly enough, Gilbert Norrell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A book with a Strange spell upon it

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a fill on the kinkmeme for a prompt asking for a spell that makes everyone fall in love with Jonathan Strange. I managed some bonus points, including Arabella not being at all helpful, and including having Stephen Black be one of those affected. (I couldn't manage the Gentleman, since I set the story well before he was even aware of Jonathan.)
> 
> Thanks to Predatrix for betaing this and contributing ideas and bits of dialogue for some of the infatuation scenes!

March 1810

All fashionable London knew of the famous and patriotic magician, Mr Gilbert Norrell, and his amazing deeds for the support of the nation in its struggle against Napoléon. Many among the highest circles of society and the government had hosted him at dinners, dances, parties, concerts and other events, deriving a great deal of prestige, if not entertainment, from Mr Norrell’s presence.

More recently the cream of London society had become aware of Mr Norrell’s first pupil, the handsome and talented Mr Jonathan Strange, and his charming wife Arabella. They were often to be seen at the same events as Mr Norrell and had been adjudged witty and pleasant. They were, everyone agreed, as fascinating as Mr Norrell was boring.

Mr Strange, socialites and officials knew, was permitted access to Mr Norrell’s fabulous library of magic and that he was even permitted to read the books. 

What they did not know was that Mr Strange was struggling to create his own professional library of such books. Mr Norrell might loan him books, but he never gave him any or even told him of copies that were on the market and that he might wish to purchase. Indeed, Mr Norrell continued in his long habit of buying up interesting and rare books of magic, even ones that he had copies of already, in order to prevent the rise of other magicians. He carefully controlled which books Mr Strange could read and Mr Strange suspected that his tutor would have been upset had he known of Mr Strange’s secret visits to shops that dealt in such things.

One day Mr Norrell inadvertently provided Mr Strange with the opportunity to make some visits of this type. They were both in the library at Hanover-square in the early afternoon. Their morning lesson had gone quite well, as usual, and they had lingered over a quiet lunch together, with most fascinating discussion of magic. 

Once back in the library, Mr Norrell pulled out a folder of papers.

“Mr Strange, I dislike asking you to run a mundane errand, but Childermass has gone to Bath to inquire about some rare books of magic that have suddenly become available. Would you mind dropping by Sir Walter’s house later this afternoon? I need him to look over the proposal concerning the methods for speeding up the training of troops that we finished last night. I have had my lawyer draw up the usual contract for Sir Walter to sign if he finds the proposal satisfactory, and that is in the folder as well. I’m sure you can answer any questions he might have. He is expecting you at four o’clock. By the way, you were most helpful in working up this proposal.”

“Of course, I should be happy to take the documents to Sir Walter. And thank you for your kind words about my contribution, sir! I did little enough to warrant them.”

Mr Norrell smiled at him warmly. “You are too modest, Mr Strange. True, you only added a few passages to the draft, but your research contributed considerably. Now, I am afraid that I must deal with some matters with Mr Lascelles, so I will entrust these to you with thanks and look forward to seeing you tomorrow for our usual lesson.”

“You’re quite welcome, sir. I too await tomorrow’s lesson with keen anticipation.” He took the folder and departed, reflecting on how much he enjoyed Mr Norrell’s company during their lessons and especially their more informal chats. He had certainly not expected when he first met the other magician that they would become such good friends.

+++++++++++++++++++++

As Mr Strange walked to his waiting carriage, he realized that he would be far too early in arriving at Sir Walter’s house on Harley Street, which was not far from Hanover-square. He decided that the afternoon, which was quite cold and threatening rain, would be perfect for passing the time by visiting bookshops. He directed his coachman to take him to Charing Cross Road.

He spent a pleasant but unproductive time browsing in three shops. Eventually he entered a fourth, that of Mr Waterbury, a large and reputable establishment that he had recently begun to frequent. Mr Waterbury was helping another customer but nodded and smiled a greeting to the magician. Mr Strange was glad that Childermass was safely out of London. If he were to run into Mr Norrell’s man of business in such a bookshop, there would be little hope of finding interesting volumes. Moreover, Childermass probably would have informed Mr Norrell that his pupil was clandestinely searching for books of magic.

Mr Strange knew quite well which shelves contained the shop’s books concerning magic, and he moved into that corner and scanned the titles. Most were of little interest, being common items and dealing primarily with theoretical rather than practical magic. He had already read all of them, since Mr Norrell had no objection to his reading virtually any book on theoretical magic and indeed had concentrated his recommendations on them in the early days of Mr Strange’s studies.

One rather large book with a red leather cover caught his attention as unfamiliar. He pulled it down and read the title page: Discourses upon the Kingdom of Light and the Kingdom of Darkness by Dr Martin Pale. It was not the first edition, which was so rare that only Mr Norrell was known to have a copy. The Cromford edition was scarce enough, though, and it was such a major work that Mr Strange was quite excited at the prospect of owning it—especially since Mr Norrell had so far not allowed him to read anything in the copy in his library. Mr Strange looked through carefully to check the volume’s condition. Finding it reasonably good, he set the book aside and finished his perusal of the shelves. There was nothing more of interest, so he turned to Mr Waterbury. The other customer had departed some time ago, and the proprietor was sorting and shelving his latest acquisitions. He looked up with a smile.

“Have you found something of interest then, Mr Strange?”

“Yes, I’m very pleased to have stopped by today.” Mr Strange placed the book on the wooden counter in one of the few spaces not occupied by stacks of books. “I imagine Mr Childermass would acquire this for Mr Norrell if he had found it before me.” He chuckled.

Mr Waterbury chuckled as well. “Yes, you have come at a fortunate time. I purchased it only two weeks ago, and Mr Childermass has not stopped by recently.”

He picked up the book and opened the front cover to look at the price written on a small slip of paper, but suddenly he looked up into Mr Strange’s face with a small frown and a blush rapidly swept over his face.

“Yes, uh, that’s … that’s forty guineas, Mr Strange. Quite a, um, rare volume, of course. If you do not have that amount on you, you would be most welcome to take it with you now and come back in a day or two to pay for it.”

Mr Strange pulled out his purse. “Thank you, sir, but there is no need. Here you are.”

Mr Waterbury looked oddly disappointed at being paid so promptly. He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something more and finally smiled again. “That’s a very handsome outfit you have on, Mr Strange. I especially like the pantaloons.” He stared at them and then came to himself, blushing again.

“Would … you possibly have the time to share a cup of tea with me?” He gestured at a short hallway leading away from the shop and into what appeared to be a small sitting room.

Mr Strange was somewhat taken aback. No shop owner had ever wanted to socialise with him in this fashion.

“Well, really, I should be …” He trailed off, checking his fob watch and realising that it was still too early for his later afternoon appointment with Sir Walter and he knew of no other promising bookshops in the area.

Mr Waterbury pressed on, “I so seldom have the opportunity to chat with my customers, and you are obviously a very devoted reader. Ah, I can just picture you, sir, late in the evening lying in bed, reading about some sort of arcane magic. How I wish I could join you there—oh, excuse me! That is not what I meant to say! What I mean is, I have some delightful ginger biscuits to offer you as well. And I was just thinking, if you have some titles that you are especially keen to find, you can mention them to me over tea and I could make a list and keep an eye out for them especially. We need not tell Mr Norrell, need we? After all, I have become so fond of you that I would be happy to give you the first option for anything you wanted.”

The man was so eager that he actually came out from behind the counter and, to Mr Strange’s surprise, turned over the sign on the door to read “Closed” and locked the door. He then took Mr Strange’s arm, escorting him somewhat firmly back through the little hallway lined with bookshelves and into the sitting-room. 

Well, it was just the sort of cold spring day when a cup of tea sounded very appealing, and although Mr Waterbury seemed more eccentric than he had noticed hitherto, he was a pleasant enough fellow. And Mr Strange was fond of ginger biscuits.

Quickly Mr Waterbury built up the fire, put the kettle on, brought forth a decorated biscuit tin and placed it on a little table, all the while keeping up a stream of chatter about how kind Mr Strange was to take the trouble and how handsome he looked on that particular day and what a wonderful customer he was. Mr Strange was used to being complimented, sometimes quite enthusiastically, and he had to admit that he had dressed carefully in case he had to go with Mr Norrell to visit any government officials. Yet this was only the third time that he had bought a book from Mr Waterbury.

Finally the pair were seated and enjoying their tea. Mr Waterbury stared in fascination at Mr Strange. “Are you married, sir?” he blurted out, seeming rather surprised at himself for asking such a personal question.

Mr Strange was again somewhat taken aback. “Yes, um, I have been married for nearly a year to the most charming woman in the world. Arabella has shown admirable patience for my obsession with magic.”

Mr Waterbury’s face fell. “What a pity! That is, um, I mean to say, your marriage must have caused quite a few young ladies, and perhaps a gentleman or two, to nurse broken hearts. You are so very handsome and charming!”

Mr Strange began to feel quite nervous. He stood up. “Well, Mr Waterbury, thank you for the tea and those delectable biscuits! Very refreshing on a day like this. We did not get around to making that list of books, but honestly, I cannot think of any titles offhand. Working in Mr Norrell’s library, however, I am sure I shall come up with some, and I shall write them down and give the list to you upon my next visit.”

Mr Waterbury stood up as well. He looked surprisingly upset. “Oh, Mr Strange, please don’t go so soon. I … I want to tell you that … I love you!” He stepped around the little table and tried to embrace his guest.

“Mr Waterbury, please! You hardly know me, and as I said, I am a married man, and …”

The book-dealer seemed quite distraught. “Yes, I know, I know, but the feeling is so intense, sir, that …” He cleared his throat and appeared to pull himself together. “Well, you must forgive me. L-let me wrap the book for you and you can be on your way.”

They returned to the front of the shop, and Mr Waterbury wrapped the book carefully in white paper and tied it with a ribbon embossed with the name of the shop. As he finished, he looked at Mr Strange thoughtfully. 

“Oddly enough, sir, I had a similar experience recently. I found myself deeply in love with a man whom I had only just met an hour or so earlier. Come to think of it, it was the gentleman who sold me some books, including the one you have just purchased. Again, it was an intense emotion, but the next day it was completely gone, and I asked myself how I could possibly have found such a fellow attractive. I cannot imagine why I have suddenly become so changeable and impulsive. I can only suppose that it is the fact that my wife left me a widower barely more than a year ago. Perhaps I suffer bouts of loneliness. But, really, that is no excuse for my behaviour. I do hope you can forgive me, sir.”

“Yes, certainly. I’m sorry to hear of your loss and to have unwittingly caused you distress.”

“I also hope my indiscretion will not deter you from continuing to patronise my shop, Mr Strange. I assure you, such a thing will not happen again.”

“No, not at all, not at all. You have a very good stock in magical publications. Good afternoon, Mr Waterbury.”

“Good afternoon, Mr Strange,” said Mr Waterbury glumly, opening the door to let him out. As Mr Strange walked down the street to where his carriage was waiting, he glanced back and saw Mr Waterbury still watching him with a wistful expression before finally flipping the sign over to read “Open.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

By this time it was nearing four o’clock, and Mr Strange directed his driver to take him to Sir Walter Pole’s house. During the trip, he took the wrapping off his book and glanced through it. He reflected that it was undoubtedly the most important book of magic he had managed to add to his personal library. 

Oddly, he was so pleased with the book that he felt compelled to show it to some one. Not that he had an innately secretive nature like his tutor, but considering Mr Norrell’s probable response to his setting up his own magical library, he had normally been discreet about such acquisitions. Once he reached the house, he got out of the carriage and paused. He had left the book on the seat, but after a moment’s thought he picked it up and tucked it under his arm.

The butler, Stephen Black, took his outer garments and showed Mr Strange into Sir Walter’s study, where the Minister greeted him effusively. They exchanged pleasantries, and Sir Walter accepted the folder with the proposal and contract sent by Mr Norrell. They sat down on two elegant chairs upholstered in yellow silk that stood opposite each other.

“How is Lady Pole faring, sir? Considerably improved, I hope.”

Sir Walter shook his head sadly. “Much the same, I fear. It is very kind of Mrs Strange to take an interest in her and to visit her so regularly. And how is your wife?”

“Very well, thank you.” Mr Strange glanced down at the book in his lap. “I had a bit of good fortune on my way here. I found this important book of magic in a shop.” 

He stretched forward and handed the book to Sir Walter. 

Sir Walter had had no very high opinion of magic until Mr Norrell had used it to bring his wealthy young fianceé back from the dead and subsequently facilitated his political career. Even now, however, he paid little attention to the specifics of magic. But he politely took the book in both hands and examined it attentively. Then he looked up at Mr Strange with a broad smile.

Jonathan had generally found Sir Walter a rather forbidding, uninteresting fellow, but for once he got a view of the politician’s personal charm; how such a very ill-proportioned and un-beautiful man could appear so striking. Suddenly Mr Strange felt that Sir Walter was paying very close and flattering attention to him.

“Mr Strange, I know you have been studying magic now for a relatively short time, yet I must say that I already consider that you have the stuff in you to be a very fine practitioner indeed. I warrant that you will soon be outdoing your famous tutor in magical skills. Why, in a short time, I believe it would be a very good thing if you could attach yourself directly to my office. It would be advantageous to have you working there, making magic a much more official part of the government.”

Mr Strange was startled by such praise and smiled at Sir Walter, trying to look modest.

Sir Walter paused for a moment in thought, eyeing Mr Strange closely.

"In fact, have you ever considered going into politics, Mr Strange?" said Sir Walter. "I should not suggest this to Mr Norrell, for he has neither the face nor the manner to suit. It takes a gentleman of parts, who can make a case when he chuses. And then, if your argument does not carry sufficient facts, you may fill in from an assurance built on magic, not an option we poor politicians have. And you have all the charms of person I, for example, lack: your dress is admirable; your nose, Roman; and your hair styled _à la mode,_ after the Romantic fashion."

While Jonathan Strange did not regard himself in any way as a plain or ugly man, he was occasionally sensitive on the subjects of his nose (too long for true beauty) and his hair (as unmanageable as Arabella often called it). They certainly had not drawn favourable attention up to this moment. Compared to most politicians, though, he considered that he might be thought somewhat handsome.

“You are very kind, sir, and yet this comes as rather a surprise. I am still in the relatively early stages of my studies, and the work that Mr Norrell is doing for the government is so important that I think my talents, such as they are, would be best employed in helping him and learning from him. Apart from that, he and I have become such close colleagues that I would very much regret not working with him at his home.”

"Really? I must say, Mr Norrell is very brilliant and most helpful, but he has always struck me as rather a dull fellow. Here, let me pour you a drink, Mr Strange. Madeira-wine? Here you are. To your health, my dear sir.” He sat down again and slid his chair forward, as if about to impart a deep secret. His knees were nearly pressing against Mr Strange’s. “Now, let us be frank. Mr Norrell is doing great things, as you say, but we both know him well. He is not inclined to share credit, and he will take care to keep you in his shadow as long as he can. I, however, am suggesting that you could have a fine career in the House and use your magic quite independently of Mr Norrell. I would be very happy to offer you all my aid if you will be friendly to me in return." Sir Walter leaned further forward and rested his hand on Mr Strange’s knee, gently caressing it and looking suggestively into his eyes.

Mr Strange gulped down the remainder of his wine and stood up. “Again, thank you for your encouragement, sir. I shall … think it over. Good evening!” He picked up the book from a side table where Sir Walter had placed it.

Sir Walter importuned him to stay, and when he insisted upon leaving called after him, “Come here again tomorrow morning, Mr Strange. I’ll examine this document carefully tonight. If I have any questions, I can ask you when you return, and if all is satisfactory, I’ll sign the contract and you can take it to Mr Norrell.”

Mr Strange nodded with a forced smile and went out to the entrance hall. He pondered what had just happened. All this _might_ have been possible to consider as natural: unlike Mr Waterbury, Sir Walter both knew him and might conceive a more personal interest in him. It was even possible to consider that Sir Walter might realise that Mr Norrell was ill-suited to politics, and seek another magician for that reason. But that caress at the end seemed to imply a sudden interest that was more ... well, far more intimate and certainly implied an unpleasant quid pro quo.

Out of nowhere Stephen Black silently appeared and went to fetch his cloak, hat and cane. When he returned to help Mr Strange on with his outer clothes, Black grasped the book and pulled it out from under his arm before Mr Strange could stop him. He only meant to make it easier for Mr Strange to put on his outer garments, but the result was considerably more startling than Sir Walter’s unexpected fascination had been.

Black had always seemed to him to display nothing but a highly-polished exterior and a frightening efficiency. Now he was staring at Mr Strange in an adoring way that made him seem much younger and more inexperienced. Black looked around furtively and in a quiet, stammering voice, asked him if by chance he needed a personal servant who could provide expertise with his wardrobe.

Mr Strange was startled indeed. He could not believe that Black desired to leave Sir Walter's service. Sir Walter, like his father before him, took care to treat Black better than most African men were treated in England, and the man apparently was justifiably proud of his highly accomplished management of a large household. 

He replied, “But surely, Stephen, you would have nothing to gain from going from here to a young man's small household where there was no real need for you and not so many of the occasions where you could shine. You are much better off here.”

Stephen looked at him pleadingly. “But, sir, I have conceived such an affection for you! I think it would be far more agreeable to work for you than for Sir Walter. He dresses well but in quite old-fashioned clothes. I suppose he thinks them suitable for his political position. You, however, are aware of the latest fashions and are even a bit daring in your wardrobe. I should very much like to see you out of your clothes, sir! That is, in the morning, when I would be dressing you. I take a great deal of pleasure in dressing and especially undressing a handsome man like yourself with well-made, up-to-date clothing and accessories. In your case, a great deal of pleasure indeed! I am sure that you would not regret it, sir.”

Mr Strange stared at him. “I see. Well, thank you, I appreciate your offer. I really must go now, but I shall certainly mention your request to Mrs Strange. She, of course, is the true head of the household when it comes to domestic matters.”

“Oh, don’t forget your book, sir. Here it is. And you will definitely at least consider the possibility of hiring me, I hope, sir?”

Mr Strange replied as he moved toward the front door, “If you wish it, but really, Stephen, I cannot encourage you to leave such a plum position as you currently occupy.”

Once in the carriage and on his way home, Mr Strange thought over these three peculiar encounters, which could not be coincidental. They must have something to do with the book. Some sort of a spell, an irresponsible one that encouraged amorous infatuation or actual love. Which was it, though? An unscrupulous seducer would likely use magic to induce temporary “love.” 

Was there a pattern to them? All three of the people influenced by the spell were men. Yes, but he was a man and had not been similarly affected, else he presumably would have developed a passion for Mr Waterbury. Two of the affected people, Waterbury and Black, were single and quite possibly not in love. Yet Sir Walter was a married man. He was puzzled that Sir Walter, a married man, should react to the spell as though he were not already in love. Still, Mr Drawlight had once hinted quite strongly to him that Sir Walter married Lady Pole not for love but because her income would help him with his considerable debts. Perhaps the man’s reaction to the spell tended to confirm that bit of gossip. He himself was a married man, but definitely in love with his wife. So far, the instances he had encountered suggested that only people not in love were subject to the spell, though he had seen too few examples to be sure of that. So far, any other premises remained obscure to him.

So far he had not encountered any ladies since he had acquired the book. Would the spell work on women? He could hand the book to Arabella and find out. She was already in love with him, so no harm would be done. If she became even more in love with him, all the better.

Mr Strange also suspected that there was a temporal limit to the spell’s effects. There usually was with this sort of bewitchment. But how long would those effects last? Or was there a spell at all? Was he just finding a pattern in an odd, coincidental series of events?

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Once at home, he went into the sitting room, where Arabella was as usual occupied in choosing colors and fabrics for the redecoration of their London house, which had been closed up for much of his life. 

She gave him a quick kiss and noticed the book under his arm. “Jonathan, have you succeeded again? Even with Mr Norrell’s obstructions, you shall build yourself a proper library at this rate. Bravo!”

Mr Strange thrust the book into her hands as he launched in enthusiastically, “Yes! This is a particularly important book of magic, one of the titles at the top of the list of ones that I would wish to find. You see, Martin Pale is considered one of the Argentine magicians, but in truth he was so skilled that others classify him as one of the Aureates. The spells in his books—”

Arabella, who was as intrigued as she normally was with his work, interjected, "Very nice, dear!" She glanced back at the swatches of fabric that she had been considering.

"The book does not make you feel...odd, Bell?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "Not in the least. You're not telling me it has the mould, are you? Because if it does, you can take it right out of my nearly completed, utterly clean sitting-room and its brand-new drapes!" She handed it back to him very quickly

“No, nothing of the sort. It’s just that I suspect that it might have a spell on it.” He explained about the curious occurrence with Mr Waterbury. "I may believe I am a personable, well-dressed man, my love, but it truly seems most unlikely that I should have such an effect on an elderly book dealer after a few brief meetings. Then when he mentioned the gentleman from whom he had bought it ... Never mind, silly idea!" he concluded, when he saw the unlikelihood of the idea reflected from her grey eyes. 

“Well, I certainly feel no such reaction. I love and want you, of course, Jonathan, but no more so than when you walked in that door.”

“But Mr Waterbury was only the first. There were two other occurrences today that tend to suggest that there is something about this book that leads to infatuation or love.” He told of the events at Sir Walter’s house. 

Arabella considered. “Well, that does sound very odd. Poor Emma! But then why did I not react in the same way? For that matter, did you yourself feel any different after you picked up the book in the shop?”

“No, admittedly I did not. I have of course been thinking it over. Consider, for example, the fact that all three incidents were all directed at me. Perhaps because I was the one who handed the book to each of these men.”

Arabella took the book again. “Well, there is a simple way to test whether that is a factor, is there not? I should hand the book to someone. Not that I believe in this silly, so-called spell, mind you. I know. Mary!” She rang the bell.

Mr Strange felt rather dubious about using their servants for such a purpose, but Arabella was determined to show him that there was nothing magical about the book. He doubted whether she would succeed, for by now he was quite convinced that there was a spell on the thing. Still, another case might change her opinion and give him clues as to the nature of the spell, including whether it worked on women.

Mary duly appeared a minute or so later. Arabella looked at her, apparently unclear as to what excuse she could give for handing a book to their maid. 

She blurted out, “Mary, could you take this into Mr Strange’s study and put it on his desk?”

“Of course, mum,” Mary replied, holding out her hands for the book. The moment she had it, she turned to look at Mr Strange with wide eyes and said breathlessly, “Oh, Mr Strange, oh, sir!”

She fell down in a swoon. 

Mr Strange stared down at her and then looked at Arabella, who was staring back with a most unpleasant expression.

"Well, she's never done THAT before!" said Mr Strange uneasily.

“No,” Arabella said icily. “At least, not in my presence.”

“I hope you don’t think that this implies—”

“I don’t know what to think, Jonathan. For now, call someone to help you carry her up to her bed.”

Mary had recovered an hour later and insisted most vehemently on helping serve at dinner. Indeed, she was most distressed when Arabella and the cook tried to convince her to stay in bed for the night.

Mary seemed quite healthy while bringing in the various courses and clearing the tableware in between. Too healthy, Mr Strange felt, for she kept casting very longing and enticing glances at him, sighing audibly and lingering to stare adoringly at him long after he had helped himself from the serving plates she was offering to him. Whenever she saw that Arabella was looking at her, she quickly assumed a bland expression and moved away from Mr Strange. Arabella noticed all of this and became increasingly cold toward her husband in the course of the meal.

Afterward, as the couple left the dining room, Arabella said quietly to Mr Strange, “Now I see why you made that ridiculous claim about the book being bewitched.”

“What in the world do you mean?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how Mary was gazing at you as if you were the most wonderful thing on earth. Here I was, thinking that you didn’t pay any attention at all to her when I hired her. You were just pretending not to. How long has this been going on?”

“Arabella! I didn’t pay any attention, and I have no romantic interest in Mary whatsoever. She’s just responding to the spell on the book, as I suggested she would. You might take account of the fact that she fainted and began behaving in this way the moment you handed it to her.” He paused with a frown and said thoughtfully, “That may well indicate that the spell induces love toward the person who owns the book, not the one who hands it to someone.”

“Really, Jonathan! If that little scene indicates anything, it is that you have very carefully planned and calculated it in order to cover up your and Mary’s mutual affection. Jonathan, you may sleep in your study tonight. And from now on. I shall give Mary her notice tomorrow.”

She stalked away to their bedroom. Her bedroom, it appeared, unless he could convince her he had been telling the truth. He went into the kitchen and assured the cook, Mrs Slythe, that he wished Mary to be kept on, whatever Arabella might tell her the next morning. Then he retired to his study, eyeing the uncomfortable-looking, short sopha upon which he would repose for the night.

Mr Strange sighed and realised that he would need some bedding, given that the room was likely to become quite cool as the evening progressed. He didn’t feel up to facing Arabella in a quest for his nightclothes, so he resigned himself to sleeping in what he had on. He had a dim sense of where the linen closet was, and after some fumbling about with only a candle to light his way, he managed to open the right door.

Just then someone else came into the hallway. He straightened up from inspecting the lower shelves and was shocked to see Mary facing him, smiling delightedly. She looked over her shoulder toward the Stranges’ bedroom and then came a little closer to him.

“Oh, Mr Strange, how wonderful that you are sleeping in your study! I can join you there for the night without Mrs Strange finding out. I do love you so much, sir!”

Before he could react, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him, kissing him hard on the lips. 

The sound of a door opening at that very moment made Jonathan pull nimbly back and stare in horror at Arabella, standing in her doorway and taking in the scene. Mary gave a little squeak and rushed off down the hallway toward the servants’ quarters.

Arabella glared at her husband and slammed her door.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The atmosphere in the dining room the following morning was as chilly as the weather outside. When Mr Strange entered, Arabella gave him such a look that he turned around and headed for the kitchen to eat his breakfast there.

Just before he reached the kitchen, however, its door opened and Mary came out. Her mouth dropped open and she blushed a vivid pink as she saw him.

“Oh, Mr Strange, I am so sorry! I have no notion what came over me last night. Mrs Strange must be very angry.”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. It’s I who should apologise. That book I brought home had a wicked spell on it, and your touching it caused you to fall in love with me. But you seem not to feel that way now.”

“Oh, no, sir! Not at all. But you make me easier in my mind. I thought there was something unnatural about how I felt, but I could not resist the longing that came over me.”

“Good, I’m glad that you understand now what happened! I have assured Mrs Slythe that you are not to be fired, whatever my wife might tell her. I’ll arrange for Mr Norrell to remove the spell from the book this very day. And then, I shall somehow convince Arabella that there really was such a spell. Just keep out of her way for today, Mary!”

After a quick breakfast, wash, and change of clothes Mr Strange headed for Harley Street. He was rather dreading having to face Stephen Black, but a footman opened the door for him and led him to Sir Walter’s study.

Sir Walter rose from his desk, looking worried, and greeted him.

Mr Strange replied, “Good morning to you, sir. Before we discuss the proposal and contract, I should tell you that Mrs Strange and I considered the idea you broached to me last night, and we both feel that it would be best if I continue pursuing my career as a magician rather than going into politics. But I very much appreciate your bringing up the possibility.”

“Yes, well, I, uh, upon thinking it over, I quite agree with your decision. I’m sure you would make a very fine politician, but you undoubtedly will make a better magician. Politicians are common as dirt, whereas there are only two practical magicians, you know!”

“Quite right, sir. I’m glad you see it that way.”

“And, um, it occurred to me later that my last little gesture, that pat on your knee, while meant in a purely friendly fashion, might be construed as overly familiar. I hope you did not take it that way, for that was far from my intention.”

“Pray, don’t think of it, sir. I know you were only trying to be encouraging.” He secretly thought that he could hardly have mistaken Sir Walter’s gesture for anything but what it had clearly been, an offer to exchange political power for intimate pleasure. Still, he had to admit the man was not at fault for having unwittingly been burdened with a spell. More importantly, though, here was more evidence that the spell was indeed, as he had surmised, only a temporary one. Its effects had disappeared overnight.

Sir Walter smiled in a jovial fashion. “Ah, good. Well, I think the proposal is admirably clear and should accomplish exactly what we wish to accomplish. I have signed the contract, and you can present it to Mr Norrell with my compliments. The usual terms, half upon signing and half upon completion, are quite agreeable. Childermass may send the invoice to my office.”

Once Mr Strange returned to the entrance hall, he was feeling very relieved and cheerful. All was presumably well, apart from Arabella’s jealousy, and he felt confident that with time he could persuade her of the truth … with time.

Black came out to bring him his things. He looked at Mr Strange uncertainly.

Mr Strange smiled. “Stephen, I would imagine that you have been having second thoughts about your idea of leaving Sir Walter to come into my employ. I think it is best that you stay where you are.”

“Oh, thank you, sir! You are very understanding. Even if I were willing to leave Sir Walter, I would not wish to desert Lady Pole in her time of trouble. She seems to find my company somewhat comforting, and I am happy to do for her what little I can.”

“An admirable attitude, Stephen. I’m sure your offer resulted from a momentary impulse. But thank you for your kind comments upon my wardrobe. A pity that Sir Walter does not see eye to eye with you concerning his own. Well, I must run off to deliver these documents to Mr Norrell. Good day to you!”

“Good day, sir.”

Actually Mr Strange had an hour or so before his lesson with Mr Norrell, so he decided to make sure that, like the other three, Mr Waterbury was no longer under the influence of the spell. He dropped by the bookshop.

Mr Waterbury blushed when Mr Strange entered his shop and began to stammer out another apology, but Mr Strange held up his hand to halt the flow of words.

“No need to say anything more, my dear fellow. Your importunities of yesterday were not your fault—except in that you inadvertently had a dangerous book on sale.”

“Dangerous? A book? What do you mean, Mr Strange?”

“The copy of Dr Pale’s book that I purchased from you has a spell on it, one inducing a temporary infatuation with the book’s owner in anyone who touched it. I must say, I was quite startled by some of the things you said to me—as were you, I’m sure. But it was a helpful incident, in that it alerted me to the possibility of the book being bewitched. I am in fact on my way to Mr Norrell’s house. He will no doubt know of or be able to devise a counter-spell that will prevent any possible ill consequences from the volume in the future.”

“I am so relieved to hear you say so, sir. It explains not only my odd behaviour yesterday but also that earlier infatuation I mentioned. I was afraid I was becoming a little touched in the head!”

“Not at all, not at all. Well, I presume you have not acquired any rare books of magic since yesterday, so I shall be on my way. I just wanted to make sure that the spell no longer held you in its sway.”

“You’re very considerate, sir. A good day to you.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

As he was driven to Hanover-square, Mr Strange stared at the book on his lap. He had not yet studied the subject of removing or reversing spells. Mr Norrell was the obvious person to solve the problem of the book. They would simply have to be careful to deal with the book without the older magician needing to touch it.

Gradually a little smile crept over Mr Strange’s thoughtful face. Or would they really need to do so? Suppose he played a little trick on his tutor and simply handed him the book without explanation. What would stuffy, scholarly little Mr Norrell be like, suddenly in love with his pupil? It would be most amusing to find out. After all, the effects would last only a day.

He imagined Mr Norrell trying to kiss him. He would have to stand on tiptoe to do so. Would he be at all experienced or, more likely, would this be his first romantic kiss? Would his lips and tongue move hesitatingly and clumsily, or would his tongue slide confidently inside and explore him? Would Mr Norrell’s hands go up to comb through his curls? Would he be able to feel the man’s erection against his as they pressed closer and closer and their hands began to explore more eagerly and remove their clothing and …?

He snapped out of these thoughts, not quite sure just why he had speculated about the subject in such detail and with himself participating so actively in that last part of his little fancy. He was definitely sure of the result, however. He had a slight erection starting. That was odd, since he had never been attracted to another man before. Trying to ignore the idea, he reminded himself that the point was not what it would be like to make love with his tutor. The real point was, would Mr Norrell try to do those things and thus act in a quite uncharacteristic and entertaining way? Before he himself, of course, stopped the other magician by explaining the nature of the spell and asking him for help in removing it from his copy of Dr Pale’s book. Mr Norrell might feel somewhat peeved at having been played such a trick, and yet surely his interest in the nature of the spell would offset his annoyance. On the following day, once it had worn off, he pictured the two of them cuddling together and discussing it and laughing. No, wait, just discussing it, seated suitably in separate chairs, and laughing.

He had to admit to himself, this love spell had created some very puzzling results.

Mr Strange arrived at the house on Hanover-square with the book in hand. To his surprise, Childermass opened the door just before he could ring the bell.

“Good morning, Mr Strange,” Childermass said with his crooked smile. He stepped back to allow Mr Strange to enter. 

“Ah, Childermass, you’ve returned! I hope you were able to obtain some splendid additions to Mr Norrell’s library.”

“A few choice items, I am happy to say, sir.”

“Well, I shall leave all errand-running for the foreseeable future to you, then. Not that I objected to taking over those duties briefly. I had a most, um, interesting conversation with Sir Walter yesterday as a result.”

“That’s gratifying, sir. Indeed, I was just on my way out on some errands. But first, since I’m here, there’s no point in calling Lucy. Allow me, sir,” he added, holding out his hands for Mr Strange’s hat, cane and cloak.

“Thank you, Childermass.” 

Childermass took his cane and hat and draped the cloak carefully over his arm. He was turning to hang them up when a curious look came over his face. He stared at the book under Mr Strange’s arm.

“That’s very odd! Do you realise, sir, that the book you’re holding has some sort of magical spell on it? I can sense it quite plainly!”

Before Mr Strange could stop him, Childermass snatched the book from him and examined it. He looked up at Mr Strange in surprise and put the book down on the seat of a small chair by the door. 

The man stared at him, baffled and fascinated at the same time. He put a hand on Mr Strange’s shoulder and stared at him with smouldering eyes. “Sir, my errands should not take much time. I most likely will be back by the time your lesson with Mr Norrell is done. I have a room of my own, at the top of the house. Very quiet and private. If you would care to join me there, I think we could give each other a great deal of pleasure.”

“Childermass, I know why you are proposing such a thing, but—” 

“That’s more than I do myself, sir. You’re a handsome man, and to be frank, I’ve idly considered the possibility a time or two, but I’ve never felt such a very strong attraction to you. I don’t know how it happened, but if you’re willing—” 

“Well, I do know how it happened. You see, yesterday I bought that book …” He went on to explain the spell and its effects.

Childermass folded his arms, leaned against the door, and thought about this. “I see, sir. Well, that explains everything. Knowing what’s causing it doesn’t make the attraction go away, though. It’s going to be difficult to stop thinking about you and what we might do together while I go about my tasks, but at least I’ll know it’s only until tomorrow.”

“Yes. Right now my plan is to ask Mr Norrell to remove the spell from the book.” Mr Strange contemplated telling Childermass about his plan to trick Mr Norrell, but he decided to spare his tutor that embarrassment. It was a very impertinent thing to do, and far more so to share the information with anyone else.

“Aye, he no doubt can set things to rights. And if what you’ve told me about what sorts of people the spell effects is true, you don’t need to worry about his handling it!” He winked at Mr Strange and went on, “Well, I don’t want to be late for my first appointment, but I wish you luck with that spell, sir.” He hung up Mr Strange’s cloak and hat and, casting a final look of longing at him, departed hurriedly.

Mr Strange looked after him, puzzled. Not need to worry about handing Mr Norrell the book? Had Childermass guessed at the little trick he planned to play on Mr Norrell? Or was there something more mysterious behind his remark? He picked up the book and headed for the library door. As he entered and closed it behind him, Mr Norrell looked up with a charmingly delighted smile.

“Good morning, Mr Strange. You are admirably prompt in your arrival. Let us begin. Have a seat in the usual place, please.” 

He rose and walked over the two comfortable chairs on either side of a small desk where they habitually kept the books they were currently discussing and the notes they had taken. Mr Strange moved over and sat in one of the chairs as Mr Norrell seated himself in the other.

“I see you have a book with you, Mr Strange. Might I enquire as to what it is?”

“Certainly, sir. I was lucky enough to find a copy of Dr Martin Pale’s DISCOURSES in quite good condition.” He hesitated, looking at Mr Norrell’s surprised and pleased reaction and anticipating the delight he himself would experience at seeing his tutor seemingly in love with him. “Have a look!” he added.

He reached across the table and gave the book to Mr Norrell, who examined it outside and in with great interest. Finding the little slip inside, he said, “Oh, purchased from Mr Waterbury’s establishment, I see. Well, I am pleased that it was you who found this rather than some irresponsible person who might conceive a notion to try his hand at magic. I take it there were no other such books for sale there. If there are, however, I should send Childermass to have a look.”

“No, sir, the others were all fairly mundane.”

Mr Strange was studying Mr Norrell curiously, for he could detect nothing whatsoever unusual about his demeanour. He felt far more disappointed than seemed warranted. Mr Norrell continued to look over the volume for a short time and then put it down on the table, off to one side. 

“Quite a fair price, I should say. You were, as you said, lucky to find such a clean, intact copy, even of a later edition.”

“I am relieved to find that you are not upset to find that I am occasionally buying such books.”

“I suppose I would be upset if you were to buy books that I do not myself own, but the chances of that seem very slight. If someone is to find such things, it should be you, not an ignorant, aspiring magician. I would caution you, however, not to dip into Dr Pale’s book just yet. I think that in, oh, a year or so, you will be far enough advanced in your studies to be ready for such a complex work. Now, shall we resume our lessons? We were going through the basic literature on illusions. Do you have your notes there? Excellent!” He took off his reading glasses, cleared his throat and was about to launch into the day’s lecture.

“Excuse me, sir, before we resume, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Mr Strange. Your questions are invariably interesting and often stimulating. I do so enjoy discussing them!”

“Thank you, sir. You see, someone has evidently put some sort of a spell on this book. From the moment I discovered it in Mr Waterbury’s shop, everyone who touches it seems to have … well, conceived a passion for me, as the owner of the book. Naturally since I bought it and began to suspect that it was bewitched, I have closely observed the spell’s effects and learned something of the conditions that it involves. It seems to last only for a single day, for one thing. By the next morning the bewitched person has no such feeling. I also am convinced that it affects only those who are not currently in love. Those who are in love with someone—so far, most notably Arabella and I—feel no effect as a result of holding the book. Finally, it affects both men and women.

“Now, however, it appears suddenly to be no longer working. I say so because the spell has not affected you in the slightest. That is most fortunate, of course, considering that you would hardly wish to be captivated by your own pupil, even for a brief period. It is very odd, though, since the spell was certainly still in place only a short time ago when I encountered … um, an old friend on my way to our lesson. I wonder if I may have drawn some mistaken conclusions concerning the spell.”

Mr Norrell was looking worried, and his face had turned pink. He was silent for a long time before replying, “I do not wish to lie to you, Mr Strange, especially in matters involving magic. The spell is probably still on the book, as you believe, but it did not affect me because … well, really, it does not much matter why it did not.

“I am glad, however, that you have brought the book to me. It is quite an interesting, though deplorable instance of the kind of devious magic which I have tried so hard to prevent. The person who cast it clearly had the goal of improper seduction. From what you say, though, he must at least have had some scruples, immoral though his basic purpose was. He did not wish to cast the spell on people already in love. Married people, or those engaged to someone, or …” Here he sighed. “… or those who suffer from unrequited love. At any rate, I think that I should remove the spell immediately. It could create all sorts of embarrassing situations.”

“It certainly has for me, sir! I brought it here specifically with the intention of asking you to remove the spell. But, if I may be so bold, I believe it does matter why the spell did not affect you. It could be a valuable clue as to the nature of the magic involved. There is evidently some provision of the spell that I failed to notice. And if you know what sort of spell it is and how to remove it, I would be grateful for that knowledge as well. If I ever run across such a thing again, I should like to know how to avoid its causing such unfortunate results, both for me and for those who conceive these feelings toward me.”

Mr Norrell shifted uncomfortably in his chair and avoided looking at Mr Strange as he remained silent for an even longer time. Finally he said quietly, “You see, Mr Strange, the spell could not affect me because I am, to be frank, already in the state into which it was intended to bewitch people. I have been for some time now.” He smiled in a rather forced manner. “There, that is the simple explanation, and your surmises about how the spell operates remain highly plausible.” 

Mr Strange stared at him, wide-eyed. “You mean that you are in love? Oh, I beg your pardon for my surprise! There is no reason why you should not be. It’s just that, well, you are the epitome of gravity and scholarly dedication and rational discussion. I have never seen or heard the slightest hint of such a thing, sir.” He paused awkwardly, very curious as to who the object of Mr Norrell’s affection could be but obviously unable to ask such an impolitely personal question. “I’m sorry, I don’t know much about your background, apart from the fact that you are from Yorkshire. Are you perhaps a widower? Oh, but no, that cannot be the reason. Mr Waterbury is a widower, and yet the spell affected him as greatly as anyone. No, his case suggests that one premise of the magic seems to be that the love must be for a living person. Again, forgive me! I mention this only because I know you are always interested in delving as deeply as possible into the conditions included in any new spell that you encounter.”

Mr Norrell was staring at the table top. “Yes, you are quite right to do so. There is no need to apologise. We must be as objective as possible in evaluating unknown spells. That said, I suspect that you have again reasoned correctly. The affection I mentioned is for a living person.”

Yet another awkward silence fell for a very long time. Mr Strange’s mind was racing over the possible candidates for the object of Mr Norrell’s passion. Childermass seemed an obvious choice, and indeed he had initially suspected that the two might be lovers. Yet Childermass had succumbed to the spell. He could not be in love with Mr Norrell. Of course, they might be intimate without Childermass returning his master’s love. Yet how could anyone have physical relations with Mr Norrell without loving him? He was such an adorable man. He abruptly wondered why he would think such a thing. He admired Mr Norrell tremendously, but why should he consider him adorable? He wrenched his mind back to his consideration of who the lucky object of Mr Norrell’s love could be.

There were Mr Drawlight and Mr Lascelles. It was difficult to imagine anyone loving either of those devious, unpleasant fellows, but perhaps Mr Norrell somehow had managed it. Neither of them seemed to be in love with anyone else. But still … Mr Norrell had seemed sad when he referred to unrequited love. It could be that he pined for one of those two gentlemen, even though both were so foolish as not to return his sentiments. And yet again, really, could such an intelligent gentleman love either of those two? He sincerely hoped not.

Suddenly an idea occurred to Mr Strange, and before he could stop himself he blurted out, “Not for me, I hope, sir!”

Norrell winced and finally looked up at him in distress. “I … I am afraid so, Mr Strange. I cannot deceive you … especially, as you say, in a matter that concerns a question of an interesting magical spell. I fell in love with you during your second visit to this house—when you did that marvelous bit of magic with the book and the mirror.” With a fond little smile, he looked over at the reflection of Jeremy Tott’s ENGLISH MAGIC, still sitting in its ghostly fashion atop a stack of books before a large mirror. “Naturally I have made every effort not to betray my feelings for you. After all, you are a married man. And hence a man likely to be quite unpleasantly surprised to learn that his teacher has such feelings for him.” He sighed. “Now that I have made this confession, I trust that we will both strive to put this revelation behind us and carry on as we have so far, as friends and fellow students of the magical arts.”

The two of them agreed to do so and tried to resume their studies.

Mr Norrell struggled to lecture and explain the texts Mr Strange had been assigned to study. Although he tried to listen attentively, Mr Strange found himself surreptitiously studying his tutor, noting his surprisingly sensual lips, his delicate hands, his well-shaped legs. Thinking, in fact, of what it might be like to embrace and kiss him and perhaps do more.

Mr Norrell suddenly faltered in his lecturing. He seemed to struggle with some deep emotion and then burst out, “Mr Strange, if you already knew that your copy of Dr Pale’s book had such a spell upon it and understood its premises, why did you hand it to me? Why did you apparently wish me to fall in love with you, however temporarily?”

Mr Strange blushed. “I am sorry, sir. At first I thought it would be entertaining to see what you might look like in love. It would be so different from the way you normally appear. And I knew the effect would be temporary. But I am happy that it did not have that effect on you. It was a silly and frivolous notion on my part, and I hope you will forgive and forget.”

Mr Norrell stared at him with a little frown. “So it was purely from a desire to be entertained?”

“Well, as I said, at first I thought so. But now I realise that there was more to it. I have a confession of my own to make. I find that I now have an irresistible desire to embrace and kiss you, and I think I wanted the spell to work upon you so that you would welcome such caresses. Which is not a very honourable motive, either, and again I apologise.”

Mr Norrell stared at him with a worried expression. “I suppose it must just be the lingering suggestiveness of our discussion of the spell. You have observed its effects multiple times, and your imagination may perhaps have …” he blushed, “… led you to have similar thoughts about the first person you have encountered in the wake of such observations. That is, me. But such an attraction makes no sense, does it?” He strove to chuckle and failed miserably.

Mr Strange thought for a moment. “Does it not? I doubt that I am so very suggestible. Might my desires not arise from a genuine affection and indeed passion? I frankly doubt that my imagination would stray in that direction otherwise. I believe I have had such feelings for some time now, but it would never have occurred to me that you would reciprocate them.”

Mr Norrell shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Again, not necessarily. Now that you know my feelings for you, you might simply out of sympathy for my situation conceive a kind wish to relieve my longing. But that would not reflect your true feelings toward me. And besides, as I must remind you again, Mr Strange, you are a married man. Even in the unlikely circumstance in which you might … believe you love me, it would be immoral for you to succumb to such a passion.”

Mr Strange stared at him in some wonder. “So, sir, you have loved me for virtually all the time that I have known you. Yet you have given not a single tiny indication of it. You have not, as these many people who have been affected by the book have done, made overtures to me. You continue to love me, as far as I can tell, with no particular reason to hope that it will ever come to anything.”

Mr Norrell burst out, “Oh, Mr Strange, there is every reason why I should love you without such hope. You are so very handsome, and you are charming, but most of all, you can do magic. And that is not all. You can talk with me about magic, so companionably and with such pleasure. In my ideal life, I would be alone with you and talk with you about magic and …” He fell silent and looked away.

Mr Strange smiled. “And?”

Mr Norrell hesitated and said in a rush, “And sleep in the same bed and kiss and …” He shrugged.

“And give each other pleasure in a far more intimate way?”

After a pause Mr Norrell said quietly, “Yes, I admit it. But I do not expect it ever to happen, for the reason that I have mentioned. And our current situation already includes all the things that I mentioned except the last one. During the wonderful hours you spend here studying with me, I have all of that. I strive to be content with the relationship I have with you now, for it is, after all, a great deal. It has changed my life so marvelously.”

“You have loved me without being jealous of Arabella?”

“Well, I cannot claim to have been entirely free of that emotion, but after all, you married her before I met you. And if you married a lovely young woman, I could hardly expect that you would be interested in a man who is, let us be frank, neither lovely nor young. Indeed, I am quite aware that, even were you not married, I could hardly hope for such a thing.”

Mr Strange replied, “You are very generous, sir, in taking that attitude. Until recently I would have agreed with you. I would have thought that being loved by you would be flattering but not of interest to me, and certainly not conducive to easy, comfortable relations between us as you teach me magic. But Arabella has been so upset and jealous about each of these people who, from no fault of their own, have become irresistibly attracted to me. She would not listen to me when I told her about the magic spell, and she blamed me for fabricating all these inadvertent entanglements. 

“I assure you, it’s not that I have ceased to love Bell. This business has just been a little bump in the highway of our marriage, and I am sure that I can convince her that her suspicions about me are groundless. But I realise now that I would be grateful to be the object of a kind, generous, devoted love of the sort that you have conceived for me. I find myself feeling toward you something that goes beyond friendship. It seems so natural that we should be together. It may be a dreadful thing for a married man to say, but I am convinced that I love both Arabella and you. I think that I, too, would like to sleep in the same bed as you and kiss you and give and return pleasure in an intimate way.” He looked at Mr Norrell intensely and then glanced at the nearby sopha. “In fact, I don’t think that we would need to go to bed to do such things.”

Mr Norrell looked at the sopha as well, and then the two stared at each other. He asked, “Do you think we really should? I cannot deny that I would be overjoyed, but you are the one with an obligation to someone else, and hence you are the one who must decide.”

Mr Strange hesitated and replied, “In some ways I think we should not. In others, I think we should. And frankly, should is rapidly winning out over should not! I do desire you, truly! But I cannot leave Arabella—and I do not wish to cause you greater grief by making you fall even more deeply in love with me.”

Mr Norrell said softly. “I cannot fathom how I could be more in love with you than I am now. You see, I had never loved anyone. Well, my parents, to be sure, but they died when I was only four. Romantic love, though, no, I had never experienced that at all. I had come to think I never would, but now, absurdly enough, I have done so for the first time at age forty-four.

“But I think I do know this about love. I would so much like to experience physical intimacy with you that I cannot believe it would bring me more grief than the absence of such pleasure. I have lived with that absence long enough to know the ache it brings. Even one time with you, Jonathan, would be worth so much to me—if you can reconcile it with your conscience and your vows to your wife. I would not ask you for more.”

“You really wish for us to love each other in this way, for only this once?”

“Apart from your first brief visit, every time I have ever been in your presence I have wished that I could be alone with you, to touch and kiss you, if nothing more. It is such a strong desire that it has plagued me most persistently. Perhaps I am merely naïve in such matters, but it would be so precious to me!”

Mr Strange gazed at his tutor, sitting before him so desperately in love and yet so modest and undemanding. 

“Mr Norrell, I suggest that we go and sit on that sopha.”

They did so and without allowing himself to think further, Mr Strange slid against the other magician, taking him gently in his arms. Mr Norrell placed his hands on Mr Strange’s chest and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. He kissed him there again and again. Mr Strange smiled and closed his eyes, savouring the sensation of those soft lips. Simple though Mr Norrell’s caresses were, his innocent delight in them provoked a similar delight in Mr Strange.

Finally he turned his head slightly and captured the other man’s lips with his own. Mr Norrell uttered a tiny moan as Mr Strange nibbled at his lips and he gradually began to imitate the movements and reciprocate as well as he could.

They pulled slightly apart, both breathing more heavily.

Mr Strange murmured, “I have never done this with a man before.”

“Neither have I, of course. Nor with anyone. So the idea is not just to press the lips together but to suck on them, I take it.”

“Well, yes, that’s part of it. The start, really. Would you like to go on doing that for a while?”

“Oh, yes!”

They did so, with Mr Norrell becoming more confident and active. Mr Strange felt an enormous joy slowly creep over him, and he hugged Mr Norrell more closely, moving his hands over the man’s back. Mr Norrell raised his arms and put them around Mr Strange’s neck.

Finally Mr Strange slid the tip of his tongue between Mr Norrell’s lips and slowly explored him. At the same time he began to unbutton the other magician’s vest and shirt, slipping his hand inside and feeling for one of his nipples. He found it and rubbed it as it quickly rose and hardened and Mr Norrell squirmed with pleasure. By now both of them were moaning and whimpering softly into each other’s mouths.

Mr Strange pushed his lover back against the arm of the sopha. Mr Norrell sank down in complete surrender, overwhelmed by the sensations Mr Strange’s mouth and hands were giving him. Finally he pulled his mouth away, laying his head back on the padded arm and shifting his body under Mr Strange in growing arousal.

“Oh, my dear Lord! Mr Strange, I … I need more. Something …”

Mr Strange considered briefly. “Perhaps we should just use our hands to bring each other to climax.”

Mr Norrell opened his eyes. “But I can do that for myself. In fact, I do so quite regularly. Is there nothing more which men can do together? Nothing more intimate?”

“Yes, but I have never done them, and some are difficult, I believe. Well, there is one thing we might try. Arabella is not fond of it, but she has done it for me several times. And, well, some ladies that I knew before I met Arabella did it as well. It involves putting one’s mouth down onto this and sucking on it.”

He cupped his hand over Mr Norrell’s erection, which was quite hard.

Mr Norrell groaned. “Really? That does sound like a distinct improvement. I would be willing to try it if you are.”

“All right. Well, I have at least watched it being done to me, so I’ll start, shall I?”

Mr Norrell nodded most emphatically.

“That way, you can watch as well, and learn, and possibly do the same to me.”

“Of course! I would love to touch you down there and give you that kind of pleasure.”

Mr Strange leaned forward and kissed Mr Norrell again, his tongue plunging deep into the other magician’s mouth. Mr Norrell moaned and sucked on it. Mr Strange unbuttoned Mr Norrell’s placket and pulled it down. He delved into the smallclothes underneath and pulled out Mr Norrell’s stone-hard erection. Mr Norrell opened his eyes and looked down to see his member tenderly held in Mr Strange’s hand. He gasped and looked up into his lover’s eyes.

Mr Strange slid downward, and he encountered the other end of the sopha. He twisted so that he sat on the edge of the sofa but with his upper body facing Mr Norrell. He lowered his head and licked the head of the cock, holding its shaft in one hand and cupping the balls in his other. Mr Norrell’s shrill whimper encouraged him, and he felt his own erection swell in response.

He licked and kissed his way up and down and around Mr Norrell’s prick until it was slick with his saliva. He had never done this before, and yet his memory of what had felt good to him during such acts did not fail him. His main worry was what would happen when he tried to take the cock inside his mouth, but as he felt Mr Norrell’s fingers stroking softly around his ears and hair, he longed to give the man greater pleasure.

Mr Strange opened his mouth and lowered it over the head of Mr Norrell’s member. Cautiously he pushed it down until he sensed that he could go no further. He paused, sliding his tongue around the rough veins of the shaft and breathing deeply through his nose.

“Oh, Mr Strange! That’s … that’s lovely. Yes, please!”

He gained confidence at that, and he began to tighten his lips around the firm flesh and move slowly up and down on it, stroking the base of the shaft and rolling the balls with his hands. He groaned with pleasure and heard an answering keening from Mr Norrell. His own erection was by now so in need of attention that he longed to bring Mr Norrell to his fulfillment. He tightened his mouth around the shaft and moved more quickly.

Mr Norrell’s keening grew shriller, and his body writhed desperately until suddenly he tensed and sent warm, bitter gushes into Mr Strange’s mouth. Mr Strange was startled but managed to swallow most of the come. The rest oozed through his lips onto the shaft as Mr Norrell’s final spasms eased and he relaxed against the arm of the sopha, panting in the aftermath of his bliss.

Mr Strange pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his lips before moving up above Mr Norrell’s body and kissing his cheeks and mouth.

Eventually Mr Norrell’s eyes opened, and he looked up at Mr Strange with a smile of such joy that Mr Strange felt tears pricking at his eyes.

“That was … so wonderful, Mr Strange! Better even than I had longed for. I hope … that you never regret having done this with me.”

“No, I could never regret this. To have given you such joy …”

They rested against each other for a short time before Mr Norrell said, “I must return the joy, Mr Strange.”

“Mr Norrell, if you want to do so with your hand, I would be quite happy with that.”

“No, I want to touch your … your member in the same way. I long to do so.”

“Of course, if you wish to, it would please me greatly. I can assist you, if necessary.”

They changed places, and Mr Strange opened his breeches and brought out his very hard erection.

Mr Norrell stared at it, entranced. “It’s so large and so beautiful! I have wished to see it for so long, and it is anything but disappointing!” He passed his hands up and down it, his fingers exploring the high, rough veins, the prominent ridge on the underside, and the large, tight ball sac. Mr Strange lay back, reveling in the older man’s enjoyment of his most sensitive areas. Mr Norrell seemed fascinated as his hands continued to stroke and explore him.

“Put your mouth on me!” Mr Strange begged in a hoarse whisper.

Mr Norrell seemed to snap out of his absorption with touching Mr Strange and lowered his head to lick delicately all over the hard cock. Mr Strange sighed and moaned softly in response. Mr Norrell continued these delicate attentions for long minutes until finally he attempted to imitate Mr Strange by pushing his own mouth down over the large tip. He could not take much of it in, but he licked and sucked as well as he could.

It felt marvelous, and Mr Strange lay back and enjoyed the sensations for long minutes. At last he sensed that he would not be able to climax without something more. He guided Mr Norrell’s hand to slide up and down his shaft, holding the other man’s hand with his own and squeezing harder as he approached his climax. Finally he groaned with relief as he tipped over into ecstasy and gasped as the waves of pleasure seared through him and eventually slipped away.

He panted heavily and looked down at Mr Norrell. He apparently had tried to swallow some of his seed, but most or all of it was dribbling down his chin and his hand, as well as clinging to Mr Strange’s diminishing member. Mr Norrell looked somewhat dazed and startled and not entirely pleased at the taste, but he smiled as he saw Mr Strange looking at him. Mr Strange passed the handkerchief to Mr Norrell, who wiped the mess from his hand and mouth. Mr Strange took it back and cleaned himself.

Gradually they put themselves to rights and returned to sitting beside each other, embracing and looking at each other adoringly.

Eventually Mr Strange said, “At least you will know from now on that I love you. Even if we can never be intimate again, I shall wish for it as you do.”

“I am convinced, Mr Strange, that knowing of your love will make me happier than I have ever been. Much better than just believing that you could never feel such a thing for me. It will be frustrating, of course, but then, as I said, it has been frustrating all along.”

They sat quietly in each other’s arms for a long time.

Mr Strange finally said, “Well, despite all the sadness this may cause us, I am glad we did it. It has made me realise how much I love you. I am also glad that I found that bewitched book, despite all the trouble and embarrassment it caused. It brought us together. And I think that from now on we can occasionally hold hands and perhaps kiss. No more than that, but how wonderful it will be nonetheless!”

Mr Norrell said softly, “I would love that. Oh, I wish that I could take you back to Hurtfew with me and put a magical spell on it that would trap us there together forever. With you and my library, what more could I ever want?”

Mr Strange smiled. “Yes. I wish … Well, what do I wish? I wish I could put a magical spell on us that would invisibly bind us together, so that we could never be apart.”

“Oh, Mr Strange, would that such a thing were possible!”

They clung closely together, nuzzling and kissing for even longer.

Mr Norrell sighed. “Yes, such dreams are all very well, and perhaps they can sustain us. I suppose we can be rather like two people who are engaged but who never reach the point of being married. People who are engaged are happy, presumably, even before they marry, just knowing of each other’s love.”

“That is a very wise view of our situation … Gilbert … if I may. I believe you are right.”

“Of course you may address me thus … Jonathan. Not before other people, of course, but when we are alone.”

They hugged and whispered in each other’s ears and gazed into each other’s eyes for a very long time.

Eventually they heard a gong sound in the distance, the five-minute notice that lunch was about to be served. They reluctantly released each other and stood up. 

There was a short silence as they felt a trifle shy in the wake of what they had done together. Finally Mr Norrell said, “Well, let us enjoy our usual pleasant luncheon, although the lesson we have just shared was a most unusual one. Then we can take up our original lesson where we should have resumed it this morning.”

“That all sounds lovely, Gilbert. Yes, let’s.”

They started toward the door, but Mr Strange paused, and Mr Norrell stopped, looking at him inquiringly.

“Oh, Gilbert, I have a favour to ask.”

“Of course, Mr Strange … um, Jonathan. I would do anything for you, anything that I am capable of.”

“This afternoon, once you have removed the spell from the book, would you please write a note to my wife? I need you to tell her that you successfully removed a tricky love spell from my copy of Dr Pale’s book. I do not wish to spend the rest of my married life sleeping on the sopha in my study!”


End file.
